Young Knights
by valix33
Summary: Petey. Jenna. Will. Andy. Shay. These kids are unlucky enough to become dragged into the biggest terror attack Gotham has ever seen, the chaos of Joker. They try to survive, but is survival enough? This is a continuation of the Dark Knight OC Contest.
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry, but I've closed the contest. These are the OCs that I've picked.**

Miss Singing in the Rain- Jennifer "Jenna" Dawes

Sara112- Alexander William "Will" Grayson

Ragdoll3- Andrea "Andy" Dulance

Another Fanfiction- Amaya "Shay" Shay

**These characters and one of mine are going to be the leads in the story. Congratulations to all four. I want to remind everyone that the characters have to be balanced so I might not be able to fit in every specific thing about the characters or there might be something that I develop the character into later. All will play a huge role. Thanks for all the submissions and I'm really sorry to those who didn't get in but I can only have so many characters before it becomes a jumbled mess.**


	2. A Simple Bank Robbery

**This is where the story starts. I tried to use some dialogue from the actual movie. I don't own anything that I don't own.**

Charlie was up late that morning, and he had to leave quickly. There wouldn't be any food in the fridge even if he had time to eat. That was what this job was for, paying for food. The house he lived in was a shack, holes in the roof and everything falling apart around him. There were only three rooms, a single bedroom, a kitchen, and a disgusting bathroom. Everything was covered in dust and dirt.

It took him only five minutes to throw on some warm clothes and head for the door. On his way out he stopped by the bedroom. There was only one mattress on the floor, but it didn't belong to him. He saw the buzzed blonde hair of his little brother sticking out from under the thick blanket. They were alone in this world, but at least the kid had someone left to take care of him. Hanging on the handle of the front door was a clown mask, a mask that Charlie put on as he walked into the cold air.

This guy was the newcomer, hadn't drawn too much attention to himself yet. From what Charlie heard he called himself the Joker, and practically no one had seen him face to face. It didn't matter to him, he just needed the money. They weren't supposed to kill anyone and that made him relieved. So far he hadn't killed on any of his jobs and he'd prefer to keep it like that. Four other guys were helping to pull off this robbery. As long as no one got hurt he felt no guilt in this job, they were robbing from a bunch of corrupt thieves anyway.

He was picked up on the street corner at a quarter to noon. The man driving the car was also wearing a clown mask, one with a grumpy expression. After another twenty minutes of driving they picked up one more man, who didn't utter a word to either of them.

"Three of a kind, let's do this," Grumpy stated.

"Huh, that's it?" Charlie asked. "Three guys?"

"Plus two guys on the roof," Grumpy assured. "Everybody gets a share. Five shares is plenty."

"Six shares," reminded Charlie. "Don't forget the guy who planned the job." This made Grumpy scoff.

"He thinks he can sit it out and still take a slice?" he asked to no one in particular. "I know why they call him the Joker."

Inside the Gotham Bank there was a sixteen year old, Will Grayson. He was up at the front of the line, standing next to his uncle Roger. This was where the rich came to collect their much too large sums of money. He'd been dragged along as punishment for what happened at school the previous day. Like all the others he was wearing dress clothes to maintain his presentable appearance, a suit and tie clothing his tanned skin. Roger had the same shade of black hair as he, which was on purpose. Before Will had blonde hair, but it had been necessary to dye it.

Three men came in suddenly, all wearing clown masks. One of them wearing a grumpy mask fired into the air and people started screaming. Will instinctively got down on the ground, knowing this fight would be pointless when they had guns. Grumpy and one of the other clowns started disabling the guards and then moved on to the tellers. The third clown used tape and zip-ties to restrain the hands of all the customers. When he got to Will he paused, cocking his head to the side.

"It would be a shame to shoot such a young boy," he told Will. "Be on your best behavior." His voice unnerved Will, like he could just be shot and this clown wouldn't feel a thing about it. But he kept himself perfectly still as his wrists were tied together and the clown moved on. When he was done he started putting gas grenades into the hands of everyone.

"Obviously we don't want you doing anything with your hands other than holding on to dear life," Grumpy said loud enough for all to hear.

Charlie was getting nervous about this; no one had said anything about gas grenades. But it was almost over, and then he could go home with his share and buy them some fresh food for a change. That's when he felt the searing pain of a shotgun shell blasting into his back. He dropped to the floor, not quite dead.

"Do you have any idea who you're stealing from?" shouted the bank manager. "You and your friends are dead!" Grumpy and the other clown dove for cover as the manager kept blasting shells at them. Grumpy came up in an attempt to shoot the attacker, but he was shot in the shoulder. Finally the third guy fired at the manager and the shotgun fell from his hand.

"Where did you learn to count?" asked Grumpy irritably.

Charlie thought about home, how his brother was going to be all alone now. As hard as he tried to keep himself awake, darkness drew closer and closer to his eyes. Everything became numb, stopping the pain. Then his eyelids fell.

Will watched Grumpy walk off toward where the safe would be. The clown hovered around the crowd, making sure no one tried anything. It only took Grumpy a few minutes to return with four bags no doubt full of cash, and the clown assisted in piling them up together. When that was done, Grumpy pulled his gun on the clown.

"I'm betting the Joker told you to kill me as soon as we loaded the cash," guessed Grumpy. The clown checked his watch and sighed.

"No no no no," replied the clown. "I kill the bus driver." Grumpy was confused by this response. He didn't notice that the clown was sidestepping.

"Bus driver? What bus driver?" In response, a yellow bus backed through the wall and hit him with such force he was knocked down instantly. No doubt he was dead. Another clown came out of the bus and helped load the four bags into the bus, casually talking to the other. The third clown was just as casual when he shot the bus driver and went to climb onto the bus.

"Think you're smart, huh?" demanded the manager. "The guy that hired youze, he'll just do the same to you. Oh, criminals in this town used to believe in things. Honor. Respect. Look at you. What do you believe in, huh? What do you believe in!" The clown approached and shoved a gas grenade in the manager's mouth to shut him up.

"I believe whatever doesn't kill you simply makes you…" began the clown pulling off his mask. Will's eyes widened as he stared at the face of the Joker. He wore so much makeup his face was unrecognizable and his hair was dyed green. His lips had been cut to make a permanent smile.

"Stranger." With that he walked back toward the bus. One last glance looked directly at Will, who was afraid of what this maniac could do. Then the bus pulled out of the bank and drove away, merging into the line of school buses taking kids home from their day in classes.

The police arrived mere seconds after the Joker's departure, and Gordon showed up a few minutes following their arrival. He examined the mess that had been left behind with disgust, hating the criminals that had caused such a panic. As he walked past a discarded shotgun he saw there was a clown that hadn't been taken to the morgue yet. Out of curiosity he found himself crouching down and removing the laughing mask.

It was just a young man, couldn't have even been twenty. Gordon felt some pity for this one, no doubt just trying to earn money. This was who the Joker was, a murderer. He'd make sure that they found the bastard and put him away.

**Poor Charlie. That's the beginning of Will's story, we'll also get to meet the other four kids in the next few chapters. Please let me know what you thought.**


	3. Street Kids

**Petey and Shay make their debut in this chapter. Hope you enjoy it. I don't own anything that I don't own.**

It had been three days since Charlie had died, and the numbness just wouldn't go away. Petey was on the roof of the apartment building two blocks down, tossing rocks off the side. There was no ladder, but he'd been taught how to climb particularly well. Getting down was the hard part. The news had come to him through a network of contacts who knew how to listen for the important details. To most people it didn't matter, another criminal who got what he deserved. But he had lost his brother, and that did matter.

"How's the weather up here?" asked a brunette with her braided hair over her left shoulder. She was dressed in casual clothes, a grey T-shirt under a purple hoodie and a faded pair of jeans. He'd seen it before, since she only had two different outfits. There was a scar on her eyebrow, but she'd never said where she got it.

"Delightful," he replied sarcastically. His clothes weren't nearly in the same condition, covered in dirt with holes in his socks. The shack Charlie had managed to afford didn't have a shower so they'd both been filthy.

"I'd ask if you were okay but that's a stupid question," she commented.

"No shit," he said. He wasn't mad at her; he just didn't want to talk at the moment.

"I know it won't help, but I brought you some things from the Emmersons." The Emmersons were her adopted family, or sort of. Most of the time she lived on the streets, but once every week they'd open their doors to her and she'd stay there for the day.

"Thanks Shay," he responded. She set a bag next to him but he didn't even have to look in it to know he'd like it. Amaya Shay was truly his only friend in the world, and also his guardian.

The attack on the Narrows nine months ago had claimed his parents, who'd been killed by Scarecrow's men. There had been six months where they had nowhere to live, and they'd wandered the streets with no food and no way to shelter themselves from the brutality of Gotham. But she'd found him one morning and taken him on a tour of the slums around the city. She taught him how to climb, how to steal, and everything else he needed to live in a city like Gotham. Even after Charlie had gotten the shack Petey still continued to hang out with Shay. They were partners in crime, sometimes quite literally.

"There are some books in there and a bag of gummy bears," she stated, bringing a smile to his face. They were both avid readers, devouring any books they could get their hands on. Every time she was done with one she'd borrow it from the Emmersons and let him read through it for himself. As for the gummy bears, he just loved them.

Both remained silent for a few minutes, enjoying the view. She didn't bother taking a seat, knowing he wouldn't remain still for long. They saw different things when they looked over the skyline. To her it was a city that had problems, but a beautiful city that could fix its problems. But to him it was a beautiful sky that hid the ugliness below it, full of corruption and death at every turn. Gotham had been doused with gasoline nine months ago, now he was waiting to see who would light the match.

"Do you want to talk?" she inquired. That was the question he didn't want to hear, but he knew she'd ask anyway.

"No." He got to his feet and told her, "Let's just worry about tonight."

"Right, your routine suicide attempt," she said with a roll of their eyes. "Whose eyes are we spitting in now?" Petey was determined to take on the entire criminal organization of Gotham, every goon and every kingpin. The two of them created trouble for the gangs and then fled the scene. So far they hadn't been caught, but it still made her uneasy.

"I got some good information yesterday," he informed her. Despite his general hatred of most people he was remarkably good at the social game, playing the middlemen to get secret information about dealings and potential crimes.

"Shouldn't we just let Batman handle it?" she questioned. He gave her a look and she answered herself, "Thought that was a longshot." Most kids might have perceived Batman as their hero, but Petey definitely wasn't one of them. To him the Dark Knight was a servant to the rich, protecting those who could protect themselves instead of those who really needed someone to save them. His only common interest with Batman was putting every crime boss in Gotham behind bars. Shay disagreed of course, since the Emmersons and Petey were the only people she liked more than Batman. One of her lifelong quests was to find his identity and meet him in person to ask him all her questions. Petey knew she was gathering clues and didn't object, as long as she didn't make him help.

"He's too busy to handle the real problems," he responded bitterly. "We can handle this ourselves. The Chechen is buying from Jonathan Crane tonight, also known as Scarecrow." Shay's eyes widened and she took a step away in fear. In her head she thought of the fear toxin, everything that it had done to her.

"No," she interjected firmly. "We can't go after Scarecrow. I can't." Heart rate increasing, labored breathing, hallucinations, trying to get her. She shook the memories from her head. Subconsciously she'd been chewing her nails and she forced herself to stop. Nervous habit.

"But we can get him," Petey pressed. "If he gets thrown in jail then he can't hurt any more people. I need you to help me on this one." She exhaled in exhaustion, thinking about her friend alone against experienced criminals.

"We better be careful. Get some of our gear and bring it tonight." He nodded emphatically, glad she agreed. This was personal for him too, Scarecrow needed to rot for what he did to Petey's parents. He was the number one criminal Petey hated, or at least he had been until three days ago. Now Joker was his prize, but Scarecrow still could be part of the collection.

"We're going to nail him," he assured her. "I'm going to get ready."

"Petey?" she interrupted. He looked at her and she told him, "You know I understand what you're going through. If you want to talk I'll be ready for you." She started her climb down the side of the building, careful to avoid any windows so no one would see her. When she reached the ground she gazed back up as if expecting he would have followed her. It concerned her that he had shut himself down; usually they could talk about anything. Even more than that, he hadn't displayed any reaction to Charlie's death but rage and anger. It wasn't healthy for him and it was going to tear him apart if he didn't open up soon.

They didn't talk again that day, keeping to themselves until it was time to meet. By that time it was nearly midnight and most people would be at home. Shay was at the location first, watching the parking garage from across the street. A white van had driven inside ten minutes earlier and now she watched as two black vans went in as well. Scarecrow wouldn't be relying on manpower, his fear toxin and intellect would be his weapons.

"Am I late for the party?" Petey inquired jokingly as he approached with a large duffel bag. He dropped it in front of her and she unzipped it. There were tranquilizer guns, gas masks, and smoke grenades enough for both of them.

"Did you rob the army?" she asked in disbelief.

"You taught me too well how to steal," he replied, not really answering her question. "Let's take these bastards down." He put on one of the gas masks and hooked some grenades to his belt, wielding the tranquilizer in his right hand. She suited up as well and they hurried across the street.

By the time they were a level below the vans the meeting had already started. Petey put a finger to his lips and they crept closer to where the criminals were. Scarecrow was talking.

"…you can buy from someone else," he confidently informed Chechen. "Assuming Batman left anyone to buy from." Knowing what Chechen put his money into, they were no doubt talking about drugs. This deal wasn't turning out the way it was supposed to.

At that moment the two ran onto the same level, firing into the backs of the unsuspecting criminals. Petey was only good from close range and hit one of Chechen's men, but Shay was much more accurate and hit a Scarecrow goon across the garage. This drew everyone's attention and the two immediately took cover. Bullets flew at Petey in his position behind a blue car and he glanced at Shay two cars behind him.

"Release the dogs!" shouted Chechen. The doors of the second black van were opened and they noticed two large canines had been stored inside. At their leader's command, two goons took the dogs off their leashes and the mutts rushed at him. Sticking his arm out, he subdued one of the dogs with a single shot. The second drew closer to him and he fired again, missing. It was on top of him in an instant, razor teeth lunging for his throat. He used his legs to keep it away from him and shot it close range, pushing it off of him.

Shay grabbed one of her smoke grenades and tossed it into the fray of criminals, creating an escape strategy for them. Petey got out of cover and started shooting at anything he saw, trying to get closer to Scarecrow. One got too close to him but Shay was covering him from behind. He ran closer to his target and tried to fire. Unfortunately Scarecrow was able to perceive his form in the smoke and shoved one of his goons in the way of the dart. Gas shot out of his wrist but the gas mask protected Petey.

Before he could hit Scarecrow, a bullet flew into his shoulder and his body hit one of the cars. Instead of being from the criminals, he'd been shot by some fat slob in hockey pads and a Bat mask. Three Batmen started attacking and everyone started firing with guns.

"Petey!" Shay cried out, hiding to avoid getting hit by bullets. Chechen took the opportunity to get into one of the vans and start the engine.

"That's not Batman," Scarecrow noted, subduing one of the Batmen with gas. A figure emerged from the shadows and started taking out everyone in his way, the real Batman. Shay couldn't help but watch with amazement. While everyone was distracted Chechen seized the opportunity to drive away from the scene. Scarecrow got into his van and started driving away.

Someone pointed a gun at Batman and Shay came out of cover to defend him, firing into the goon. But this put her directly in the path of the van and it started backing up toward her. Before it could hit her Batman grabbed her and pulled her to safety.

"This is no place for children," he growled, but there was no bitterness or spite in it. There was more concern. By saving her, he'd fallen behind the van. He took the time to take care of all the remaining goons, allowing Scarecrow to escape as well. After everything was quiet he tied up the Batmen and left them for the police to find, but strangely didn't touch Shay.

"We're trying to help you," Fatman pointed out. Batman walked toward the Batmobile, maintaining his scowl.

"I don't need help!" he replied.

"What gives you the right?" demanded Fatman. "What's the difference between you and me?"

"I'm not wearing hockey pads," Batman noted, closing the Batmobile.

Shay rushed quickly over to Petey, who was bleeding on the ground. He forced a smile and shifted himself into a more comfortable position.

"I have to get you to a hospital," she said urgently.

"Relax, it won't kill me," he assured. The sound of sirens met their ears and he added, "You need to get out of here now."

"You're coming with me."

"I'll slow you down. The cops will be here in a minute and they can't catch you. Get out of here." Reluctantly she complied and quickly made her way to the roof so she could escape unnoticed while they were cleaning up. Sure enough cops arrived in less than a minute and started taking everyone into custody. Two grabbed Petey and got him out of the parking garage, putting him into an ambulance.

_How polite, _he thought bitterly. _At least they're fixing up my shoulder before they throw me in jail._ Scarecrow had escaped, stupid Batman.

**I'll try to update as soon as possible. I promise all the OC winners will be in the story in the next two chapters max and all five will be really important. Please let me know what you thought.**


	4. The View from Upper Gotham

**Can't believe it's been a year since the last time I updated. This isn't a very long chapter for such a long wait but I hope it's worth it.**

It had become a strange sort of routine for Alfred to patch up Bruce's wounds in the morning after his nights of vigilante activity. Bruce sipped his morning tea and looked over some pictures with concern. Alfred peered over his shoulder and saw photos of two kids staring back up.

"There were two street kids there last night, Alfred," Bruce stated. "Armed with SWAT gear, almost got themselves killed."

"To their credit, they did better than the Batman impersonators."

"I don't want to see any more innocent people get killed because they're in over their heads."

"Well Master Bruce, you haven't exactly been the best role model." Sometimes it irritated Bruce that Alfred seemed to never be on his side.

"I can't seem to find any record of them, just pictures." He turned away from the pictures and shook his head. "Why is it you can't find any record of anyone who hasn't been on the local news?" It seemed like Gotham had split into four different groups. There were the rich people who did famous things like host cocktail parties and open art galas, then there were the criminals who robbed and killed the rich, then there were the cops who tried to catch the criminals. In the middle of all them were the citizens of Lower Gotham, faces with no names to match them.

"Perhaps it is time to cease being Batman for the day and return to living as Bruce Wayne." Alfred was right of course, needed to keep up appearances and all that. But he made a mental note to keep searching for these young vigilantes. Maybe they just needed help.

Jenna Dawes had a front row seat to the show in the courthouse. Harvey Dent was putting yet another criminal scumbag in jail, and looking pretty good while he was doing it. Up in front of her was her aunt Rachel, trying hard to suppress a grin at the antics of her new boyfriend. In Jenna's opinion, he was going to be her uncle soon. Even when the two-bit crook pulled a gun on Harvey she didn't hold her breath because she knew he could take care of himself.

"Nice punch," she told him when she walked out of the courthouse with Rachel.

"Guy had a hard head," Harvey joked, shaking his fist.

"Well you have them pretty scared," noted Rachel with a grin. "You know you're winning when the bad guys are pointing a gun in your face."

"Glad you're so pleased." Harvey gave her a playful nudge in the shoulder.

"Jenna, you shouldn't be spending so much time in a courthouse. A girl your age should be out making friends and living a life." The good mood seemed to fall with Rachel's concerned words.

"I'm perfectly comfortable living my life watching these bastards get put behind bars," Jenna answered with a determined expression. It was the same rage that she'd possessed for the last nine months, ever since the attack on the Narrows. Detective Jeannie Dawes had been shot by a low level thug under the effects of Scarecrow's fear toxin while trying to maintain the crisis. Rachel had been more than willing to take in her niece, but she saw something change in the girl after that. She looked like her mother, wavy brown hair and chocolate eyes, an average figure.

"Jenna…" Harvey put a hand on Rachel's shoulder and discreetly shook his head. This was a fight she'd been fighting for a long time, and it wasn't one she'd win.

"What else we got for today?" he inquired, trying to change the subject. Both girls were happy to take the bait and focus their attention on something else.

"Some kid got pulled in for vigilante activity. He won't say anything to us, but from what I know he was messing with Chechen."

"Brave kid. What's going to happen to him?" Jenna questioned.

"We'll talk to the judge; see if we can get him off with a slap on the wrist. Boy's not hurting anyone." It was good for Lower Gotham that Rachel and Harvey were working prosecution. They didn't send the down on their luck people to jail just because it was easy, they believed in giving citizens a second chance. The poor residents already hated them enough as it was without shoving their kids behind bars for petty crimes.

Rachel was true to her word and managed to get the quiet boy released with just a warning. As the adults stuck to their work, Jenna found herself walking with the boy down the street. Something about him interested her. She could tell from his demeanor and his appearance that his life wasn't an easy one. He merely tolerated her, not speaking a single word, so she started doing all the talking.

"Where are you going?" No answer. "Do you have a name? Can you actually hear?"

"Usually when someone doesn't respond to you, that means they don't want to talk to you," he finally responded.

"Then I guess I'll just keep bugging you until you talk to me."

"Why are you following me? I'm just going back to my shithole neighborhood. Frankly, it was cozier in that jail cell."

"Maybe I'm following you because I'm interested. I want to see Lower Gotham." The boy laughed scornfully, taking in her upper-class clothes.

"A girl like you doesn't belong in Lower Gotham."

"What do you mean a girl like me?" she demanded.

"Makeup, nice clothes, all clean and rich looking. You wouldn't survive five minutes in a fight with a citizen of Lower Gotham." There was a moment of brief silence where Jenna just glared at the boy. In the next second her elbow jammed into his abdomen and she flipped him onto the ground, putting her foot at his throat.

"Start the clock," she hissed. No one told her she couldn't take care of herself just because she came from Upper Gotham.

"I'm not getting rid of you, am I?" he asked. She shook her head and extended a hand to pull him up. "My name's Petey."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

**Next chapter we finally get to meet Andy and we'll hear more from Will. Some chapters I'll use dialogue from the actual movie but I wanted to get this chapter up. Let me know what you thought!**


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